Keeping Up Appearances
by snooky-9093
Summary: It's all in a day's work for a dog and her human. For the 2014 SSSW contest. 2015 PBA nominee for best short general story! Bronze winner, best original character (Blumchen) Image of Blumchen, courtesy of Belphegor.


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The first line is originally from the story, "Ursa Minor," by Nina Stephens

_Keeping Up Appearances_

Her legs twitched, as she lay sleeping on her side. The rabbit she was chasing was sure to get away, but it didn't matter. After all, the thrill was in the hunt.

The dog's strong legs carried her across the meadow and into the woods. The rabbit disappeared into some low-lying bushes; but she wasn't deterred. She stopped dead in her tracks and waited. Sooner or later, the small mammal would be forced to leave its haven.

She began to frantically dig around the bushes, frightening the rabbit. It leapt out of the bush, and continued its frantic run, heading pell-mell towards the other side of the woods.

"Ha, ha. I've got you now," she chuckled, then took off after it at a full run.

But the rabbit was clever, and sensed safety straight ahead. Sure enough, it dove underneath a large boulder, quickly working its way towards the middle, where it could not be reached.

"Ha, ha," the dog could hear it say. "Now I've got you."

"I don't think so," she panted. "I'll find…"

"Blümchen. You dreaming, girl? Chasing rabbits? Or a ground squirrel?"

She lazily opened one eye. "A rabbit. And I would have dug him out if you hadn't woken me." Despite her disappointment, her tail flicked in enjoyment.

"Sorry to wake you," Karl Langenscheidt said. He bent down and stroked the shepherd's head. "We're on duty."

_"_It's all right_!"_ Blümchen got up and stretched. The corporal was her German handler, but unlike some of the other Germans, he was kind. She was sure he wouldn't hurt a fly, much less one of her packs' charges: the human prisoners who resided in the camp that was her workplace.

Langenscheidt waited patiently until Blümchen finished her stretching routine, then put on the leash. "Ready, my girl?"

_"_Ready, Karl. Report_?"_

"Just a normal day ahead of us. Well, I hope it's a normal day," Karl answered.

Karl always spoke with Blümchen, almost as he would with a human. He never forgot to bring her up to date on camp business, both official, and the unofficial, especially those odd occurrences that had been happening with increasing frequency.

Blümchen assumed he was suspicious of the cause, but he never said so out-loud. He would often speak about the war-the horrible news from the fronts, the bombings, the inhumanity, and his homesickness. Sometimes, she would see a tear roll down his cheek, for Karl was a sensitive human.

On breaks, away from the prying eyes of both prisoners and camp personnel, Blümchen would snuggle up next to her handler and offer emotional support. She noticed that Karl, although extremely intelligent and well-read for a human, was often nervous amongst his own kind. He seemed to relax around her, and she felt a sense of satisfaction that was unique to her situation. None of the other dogs in her pack felt the same way about their handlers.

Most of the guards were actually frightened of the dogs, for the dogs kept up the appearance of fierceness and ferocity, while hiding their true nature from the enemy.

Although Karl's translation skills were in demand, and he often assisted the Kommandant when Schultz was otherwise occupied, he actually preferred his duties as a dog handler and compound guard. Most of the time, he had little interaction with either the other guards or prisoners. This was his preference, as he was not the type to enjoy bossing people around, for that was what barracks guards were often forced to do.

However, in the few times he'd substituted for Schultz on barracks duty, he'd realized that the opposite was true for the prisoners in Barracks 2. They actually manipulated the guards, rather than the other way around.

Today, Karl and Blümchen walked away from the dog pen and headed to the front gate, where they would begin their patrol. It was 1500 hours, and the shift would take them through the afternoon into the night. Not all of the shift would be spent on patrol, of course. Schultz, despite being terrified of the dogs, allowed frequent breaks; he was not cruel to either them or their human handlers.

"Which way today?" Karl asked Blümchen. He normally left it to her to choose a direction.

"Left," she answered with a bark and a little tug.

Karl went right.

"Your other left," she told him with a whine and a sigh.

"Sorry," Karl said.

They headed left. It was a chilly day, but the sun was out, and the compound was filled with prisoners enjoying their exercise period. A game over by Barracks 12 was in full swing, although the reason why anyone would try and play with a ball too large to fit in a mouth defied comprehension. Even worse, the men tried to take it away from one another, and when victorious, threw it into a basket high over their head, usually losing possession of the ball in the process.

Blümchen knew she still had a lot to learn about the humans. On the other hand, she realized they could learn a lot from other species. She doubted the humans would reach that level of evolution in her lifetime.

They passed one of the guard towers, then began heading towards another area of the fence. This area was in partial view of several towers and guards patrolling the interior of the compound. So why was one prisoner slowly edging close to the barbed wire? This was an intriguing development.

So far, no one had noticed the American, but Blümchen knew that eventually he would be caught. Something needed to be done. She glanced around at her surroundings, then sniffed the ground. The human leader and his staff were not in her line of sight, although she thought they were nearby.

Her job was to protect the prisoners, and this prisoner was now in danger of getting into trouble. Getting too close to the fence was definitely verboten and, with alarm, she observed the man staring at the barbed wire. The Stalag guards weren't trigger-happy, but you never knew. Blümchen decided to take action.

"Karl." She tugged at the leash and began to bark. "Look. You have to stop him from doing something foolish." If Karl could stop him in time, the prisoner would most likely get a kind warning, and be led away from the danger zone. Not often, but sometimes, newer prisoners would get antsy.

"What is it?" Karl looked. "Oh, no. That won't do." He walked at a fast pace. Running would only alert the other guards.

Blümchen, her senses much more developed than Karl's, finally realized who was at the fence. It was her close friend, Sergeant Olsen. Now the scenario promised to become more interesting.

"You there. Stop. Please move away from the fence!" Karl ordered.

The prisoner turned around.

"Sergeant Olsen? You know better than that." Karl knew many prisoners by name. He was that kind of fellow.

Olsen's hands flew up while, at the same time, he jostled his body in such a way that wire cutters somehow slipped through his pant leg and ended up on the ground. Karl didn't notice.

"Go back to your barracks, and save me some paperwork," Karl pleaded in a quiet voice.

Olsen gave Blümchen a look and a hand signal. His eyes gazed downward towards the wire cutters.

"He wants to get caught." It was not Blümchen's job to question why, but it was her job to play along. She let out a cacophony of barking and the American jumped back in feigned terror. She pulled away from her handler and, leash dragging, she pounced in front of the wire cutters and pawed at them furiously.

Karl had no choice but to obey. He walked towards Olsen and picked up the wire cutters.

"Seriously?" he asked. "In broad daylight. What were you thinking?"

"I don't know, Corporal Langenscheidt. I really don't know. Sometimes, you just gotta go for the break."

To Karl's obvious consternation, the hullabaloo had attracted the attention of several guards, including Schultz. Several prisoners also took notice, including Colonel Hogan, which was no surprise.

Blümchen willed her tail to not wag at the sight of the American officer. Instead, she barked and growled.

Hogan ignored her. He turned to Olsen. "What do you think you're doing, Sergeant? You could have been shot. Is that a wire cutter?" He asked with all innocence.

"Sorry, sir. I just got antsy."

"Olsen?" Schultz stood in front of the sergeant's face; as if he was making sure it was indeed Olsen.

Blümchen found his reaction quite funny, and reminded herself to make sure she told her pack about it the next morning.

"Shame on you." The older man wagged his finger. "Where did you get the wire cutter?"

"Found it behind one of the tool sheds."

"Now I'll have to report this to the Kommandant."

"Look what you've done! He'll probably send you to the cooler," Hogan predicted.

"Geez. I'm sorry, Colonel. If it wasn't for Corporal Langenscheidt and his eagle eye, I'd be long gone."

_"_Hey, what about me?" Blümchen looked straight at the sergeant.

"Oh, and that nasty dog," he added.

"That's better." Blümchen picked up her paw and licked it. The prisoners frequently and deliberately pointed out the good work of their favorite guards. Dangerous and fanatical guards didn't last very long at their post. Most mysteriously disappeared.

"Sergeant, can we finish our patrol?" Karl asked.

"Go ahead. I'll take Olsen to the Kommandant. You can write your report up after you are off-duty."

"Good work, Blümchen," Karl said as they watched Schultz escort Olsen and Hogan to the Kommandanteur. "But something tells me that Olsen wanted to get caught. Although, I can't imagine why."

Blümchen's ears perked up. "You're catching on!"

She would have to report this to her pack leader, Wolfgang. Although she trusted Karl implicitly, suspicious guards needed to be watched more carefully. But she was sure it would be all right.

After all, it wasn't that long ago that Karl had regaled her with the story of his trip to a place called France. He had gone with Schultz, the colonel, and her favorite prisoner, LeBeau. With some humor, Karl enthralled her with the descriptions of the manipulation, bravery and machinations of the two prisoners.

The rest of the evening went smoothly. Instead of putting Blümchen back in the pen for a break, Karl took her to the back of the camp, where she and Karl enjoyed their dinner. It was quiet at this end. Most of the barracks in this area were not in use, and the rest of the buildings were used for storage.

After eating, Blümchen and Karl tossed a stick around. The play gave Blümchen a chance to run and stretch her legs. Sadly, however, Karl was forced to play barracks guard that evening, as Bruno was out on sick leave. Blümchen returned to the pen where, after reporting her shift's events to Wolfgang, she settled in for a nap.

And again, for the second time, her dreams were interrupted. However, this time, most of the dogs were being roused.

"What's going on?" she asked her sister, Frida.

"A plane was shot down. The humans spotted parachutes."

This was serious business. The dogs were being sent out to track the airmen. They had to put on a good show while also steering the guards astray, so that the downed men wouldn't be caught.

Meanwhile, Hogan's men would also be searching for the downed airmen. Everyone had to be on their toes to keep the guards away from both the now-terrified airmen and the prisoners trying to rescue them. All canines were on alert. The guards took their enthusiasm at face-value; they just weren't aware of who the dogs were actually working for and who was actually in control.

"Listen up."

The dogs quieted down and turned their attention to their leader.

"It was a small plane, and both humans got out. But they may be hurt. Or they may be moving. You know your duty. And our men are already out. I repeat. Our humans are already out."

The dogs trotted to the gates and, as they opened, those that were loose took off, barking and running, their guards following behind in a futile effort to keep up. With any luck, they'd be running in circles.

Several dogs, including Blümchen, were on leashes and were walking in tandem with their handlers. They all scattered in different directions.

"If I was a downed pilot, Blümchen, where would I hide?"

"Well, Karl. I'd probably not head towards a Stalag."They started off in the woods located next to the camp. Karl was methodical; he hated to leave any stone unturned. He was also smart, and he liked to search in a grid. There wasn't much Blümchen could do at this point, but follow along.

"You know, girl. It would be best if they'd head for the camp and gave themselves up. That way, they'd be safe. You never know what civilians would do to an Allied airman. Or the SS, or Gestapo." The corporal shuddered at the thought. He then crossed off a grid on his small map of the area. "Next section."

"I never thought about it that way." Blümchen kept her nose to the ground. So far, the only scents she recognized were of other guards, Hogan and several of his men. Her superior hearing detected nothing suspicious, only the usual sounds heard in the area at night.

A few moments later, Karl crossed off another grid. He stood still, looking around at the shadows formed by his flashlight. His face crinkled in deep thought, then relaxed as he made a decision.

"Where next, Karl?"

"Shhh. Don't want to give ourselves away." He gently grabbed her muzzle in the way that meant quiet, then patted her on the head. "This way."

"No not that way." Blümchen dug in her heels.

"C'mon. This way."

"Not happening."

"Fine, then. You stay." Karl walked off in a bad direction and Blümchen had no choice but to chase after him.

He threw the flashlight beam throughout the area, first up at the trees, then down at the ground in a circle. "That's weird. I don't think any of the guards came this way recently." He bent down and moved some of the leaves and brush. "Looks like someone or something's been walking through here. Probably an animal."

"Yes, you think that."

"But I can't be sure." He stood up and walked over to a tree stump.

"No. Not that tree stump_!"_

He sat down.

"Oh!" Blümchen was now beside herself. "This won't do."

She began barking and carrying on: spinning, pawing, and running towards another part of the woods; any place different from here. She ran back to Karl, then back out.

Her evening then got much worse. First it was her nose, then her ears that warned her of the humans heading her way. She detected four recognizable scents, and two unknown to her: prisoners and the airmen. Their movement stopped suddenly and the dog realized they'd flung themselves to the ground.

"What is it, Blümchen?" Finally, Karl left his perch and headed her way.

She had to make a move before Karl discovered the group. "This way_." _She took off on a run, barking a signal to the other dogs as she fled.

As Karl ran close behind her, other guards and their dogs converged on a spot at the tree line. Before them was a dark meadow, most likely the area where the downed airmen had landed. All the dogs were showing signs of agitation.

"I think we should go into the meadow," suggested one of the other guards.

"I didn't finish my grid search," Karl complained.

"That takes too long. You've never found anyone with that method. I say just follow the dogs."

Blümchen was insulted_. "_My Karl knows better than you. He might have caught everyone tonight if I had left him alone. And you are correct. We want you to follow us_."_

And so the leashed dogs continued to take their handlers on a wild goose chase into the meadow, where they met up with the loose dogs.

Blümchen and the rest of her pack were aware that their deliberate ruse would not have any long-term consequences. Colonel Hogan gave them ample opportunities to catch escaped prisoners, to prevent escapes, and to even find the occasional downed airman. The Kommandant was quite pleased with the entire set-up, although even he was frightened of the ferocious canines.

After about another hour, the guards reluctantly called off the search. The Gestapo was notified that the airmen were likely hiding somewhere near the town or heading west. The dogs were all exhausted and were grateful to be allowed back into their pen, where they immediately bedded down. But their slumber was interrupted for a brief moment when the doghouse rose and LeBeau popped up. Dodging the searchlights, as well as licks and kisses, he crawled up onto the ground until he found his friend.

"Blümchen?"

She wandered over._ "_Louis!" She wagged her tail, and gave the Frenchman a kiss.

"Ah, my little flower. We saw what you did. Corporal Langenscheidt is smart. But you are smarter." He affectionately rubbed her neck, then passed her a piece of meat. That is courtesy of Colonel Hogan. He was there."

"I know. And thank you, but we all played our parts." Secretly, Blümchen was proud of her herself, pleased that the human leader was able to appreciate her skills.

"I don't know what we'd do without you," LeBeau whispered as he began to crawl back towards the doghouse. "You all deserve an Academy Award."

_"_I don't know what that is, but does it taste good?" Blümchen let out a soft bark, quiet enough so that the guards would not hear, but loud enough so that LeBeau was aware of her answer.

LeBeau chuckled. "Bonne nuit."

"Good night, Louis." Blümchen stayed until he disappeared into the earth, and then she turned to head back to her comfortable corner in the shelter.

Wolfgang was watching from several yards away. "Good job, today."

"Thank you."

"All in a day's work."

"Yes, Wolfgang. All in a day's work."

* * *

Blümchen first appeared in my story, "With a Song in My Heart." (Chapter 17, "I Don't Want to Walk Without You.") Wolfgang appeared in an episode of the series, but it was Sgt. Moffitt who gave Wolfgang a background in "A POW's Best Friend."

I'd also like to thank Sgt. Hakeswill for her impeccable beta work on this story.


End file.
